Alice Weatherly
by Luna Jackson
Summary: Alice Weatherly is a muggle-born who enters the magical world of Hogwarts School. With the help of one little birdie, Alice finds her way to Hogwarts and her life will forever be changed. Written in 1st person.


It was dark and gloomy and rain pounded against my window. All that was audible was the loud drumming of rain and thunder rumbling in the distance. The view of the sun was shaded by the dark, ominous clouds that loomed above, high in the sky. It was only about noon but it could have passed for two o' clock in the morning. I was sitting in my room with my long, purple pajama pants and white tank-top that had the name Alice written across the front in bright, fluorescent, purple paint. That was my name of course, Alice. Or, that's what I called myself at least. My real name is Allison. My long waist-length blonde hair was pulled up into a ratty bun tied with a purple ribbon so it wouldn't come undone easily. I was sitting cross-legged on my purple sheets with a book in my lap. My report on Alice in Wonderland was due the next day and I really hadn't even started reading the book. Thank goodness it was storming so badly that they had to cancel school and I had an extra day to work on my report.

Above the loud thundering of the rain, I was surprised I could had even heard the light tapping on my window. I turned my head to see what the noise was but when I looked there was nothing there but rain and a drenched bird. I went back to my book until I realized: Why is there a wet bird at my window? I set the book down lightly, not wanting to make any sudden movements that would scare the bird away. If it was soaked in rain, it might be hurt and I didn't want to make it struggle to try and fly away. I tip-toed to the window seat at the other end of my room and sat down slowly. The bird still hadn't moved and from the rain drops that were seeping down the glass it looked like he was staring intently at me. I reached up and pushed the lock on the top of the white window frame open. It clicked open quietly. I looked to make sure the bird hadn't moved and was relieved to see that it was still sitting in its spot outside the window on the ledge. I pushed the window up to about ¼ open very slowly and when the bird had enough room to hop in, it leaped over the window track and landed on my very large science book.

The bird looked up at me with very large, yellow eyes. I shut the window slowly until it locked back in place. The bird was about a seven or so inches tall and bright white like snow. As I looked to see if the bird was hurt, it cocked its head to the side and held out its foot. Wrapped around its leg was a piece of paper that looked old and possibly from a diary entry written about two-hundred years ago. I looked at the bird quizzically.

"What, am I supposed read this paper?" I asked the bird.

It hooted back.

Wait, this wasn't just a bird, this was an owl. What would an owl be doing at my window?

I reached towards the owl slowly to make sure I wouldn't lose a finger try to get this piece of paper off its leg. It didn't move, but continued to stretch its leg out towards me. I took its leg in my hand and slowly pulled the thin, red ribbon that had been keeping the paper on. The paper fell away easily into the palm of my hand. It was quite small and looked very fragile. I opened the paper slowly. In clean, crisp cursive letters, the words "Front door." were written. I read it over. I looked at the bird again expecting an answer but very unsure if I was going to receive one.

"What does 'front door' mean?" I asked.

The owl hooted happily again.

What could this mean? Did it mean_ my_ front door? Or someone else's front door? Was there something at the front door? And who would even send a message via owl mail? This owl must have had some major training. In my mind I could imagine three trainers with round, plastic hats like the explorers in Africa wore and tan suits with shorts and lots of pockets, shouting commands back and forth for this owl to follow.

I looked at the owl cautiously. My eyes locked with its and I put my hands up in a "stay" position.

"Can you stay here for one minute?" I asked.

Another happy hoot.

"Okay, good. Stay." I backed up slowly to see if the owl would move but he just continued to stare back at me with its big, yellow eyes until I was out of the door. I turned around and pretty much ran down the hall of the second story of my house. I hopped on the railing and slid down it in less than five seconds like they do in the movies. My parents weren't home, so they wouldn't care. I hopped off when I reached the end of the stair case and took off towards the front door with my socks sliding on the hardwood. As I came to a stop in front of the door, I lost my balance and couldn't catch my footing. I landed with a loud _thud_ on the hardwood floor. I propped my elbows on the floor and started to get up until I heard something in front of me. I looked up and a letter fell through the metal mail slot in the door.

I sat up in a criss-crossed position and picked the letter up off the floor. I took it in my hands and examined it. It reminded me of the letter that had said "Front door" on it. Old, like parchment. I turned it over in my hands and looked at who it was addressed too.

_Allison (Alice) Weatherly_

_The Second Story Bedroom_

_2772 White Wing Drive_

_Avon, England_

Well, that was weird. No one writes "The Second Story Bedroom" on a letter addressed to someone. I turned it over to open the envelope, since it was indeed mine. On the pointed flap of the envelope was a red, wax stamp with an odd looking crest on it. Above that, it read in the same cursive writing as the letter and the envelope, "_Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry". _


End file.
